


A Test of Patience

by vials



Category: James Bond (Craig movies)
Genre: James really likes being yelled at I guess, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-09
Updated: 2017-07-09
Packaged: 2018-11-30 02:12:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,306
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11453805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vials/pseuds/vials
Summary: Bond has always known which buttons to press, but unfortunately for him, it goes both ways.





	A Test of Patience

Contrary to what a lot of people believed, Mallory was not an easy man to anger. He wasn’t entirely sure where people had got the impression that he was quick to anger from, but supposed it was just another of the myriad rumours that went around about him since he had found himself sitting behind M’s desk. It was a testimony to how little most of his new colleagues knew about the intricacies that went on in the many committee rooms of Whitehall; Mallory had spent his entire work week around people who would like nothing more than to get a rise out of him, and Mallory had, coincidentally, liked nothing more than refusing to give them one.

It was certainly a different kind of battle to the ones that Mallory was used to fighting, but it didn’t take long for him to realise that the experience would serve him well. He was, after all, inheriting the infamous double-0 section, which was going to give him no end of headaches, and perhaps most of all he had C to deal with, who was already proving to be, in the politest possible terms, a royal pain in the arse.

“I’ve had quite enough of insolent prats today, Bond,” Mallory said firmly, as the familiar face appeared in his office, smug as ever. “So if you would care to answer promptly and honestly so we can all go home, I would much appreciate it.”

“Of course, sir,” Bond replied politely, remaining standing until Mallory gave him the nod to sit. He seemed cooperative enough, Mallory thought, but knew better than to trust him for a moment.

“I assume you’re aware of the fact you’re still thoroughly suspended from field duty,” Mallory said, keeping a close eye on Bond’s face for any reaction. There was of course, not a flicker of guilt.

“I haven’t heard anything otherwise, so I was under the impression that nothing had changed,” Bond said, before giving Mallory a pleasant smile and adding, “sir.”

“So I trust you’ll have a good explanation for why you’ve been around harassing archives, then?”

Bond’s face remained impassive. “Homework, sir.”

“And what kind of homework is this?”

“Merely interest. I wanted to see if we had any information on any of Sciarra’s known associates, and if so, if I recognised any of their names. Purely self-indulgent curiosity, sir. Nothing untoward. I just can’t stand it when I think I might have a name on the tip of my tongue; I’m sure you understand how it is.”

“Mmm,” Mallory said. He folded his hands on the desk in front of him and stared at Bond for a long moment, waiting to see whether or not Bond would shift under his gaze, but the agent was impossible to read. “I’m sure I can understand. However, there’s another possibility I’m afraid I’ll have to discuss with you, purely in the interest of covering all bases.”

Finally, a brief reaction: Bond’s eyebrows raised a fraction, and Mallory let him sweat it out for a moment before he continued.

“I would be concerned,” Mallory said, still watching Bond for any small change, “that you might not be finished with the business of Sciarra, and that you might be looking for someone or someones in particular. I do hope that you’re not planning on anything stupid, and I do hope you’re going to keep your extra-curricular activities at home and purely curiosity driven. I trust you will be keeping your investigation firmly off the field.”

Bond had adopted a smile during Mallory’s short speech and it didn’t falter once he had finished.

“I wouldn’t dream of otherwise, sir.”

Mallory was, of course, difficult to anger, but at that moment, sitting opposite who was perhaps one of the most infuriating men Mallory had ever met, he allowed himself a brief moment to feel it. He had enough to worry about without knowing for a damn fact that Bond was up to something, and the worst part of it all was the fact that he couldn’t bloody prove it.

“I’m warning you, Bond,” he said, his voice low. “If I catch even a _whisper_ that you might be planning something, I will not hesitate to revoke your security access to Six and I would love nothing more than to lock you up in a safehouse where we can keep a constant eye on you. There is a lot going on right now that by all means I don’t expect you to care about, but god help you if you try and cock it all up for me. I have enough on my plate here and I do not need you handing C another bloody excuse to scrap the whole double-0 programme on a silver platter, and I would hope you would at least care about that much. After all, if the entire thing goes tits up, it’ll be you out of a job. Not me.”

Finally there was a flicker of discontent on Bond’s face, and Mallory allowed himself a moment to enjoy it. It was uncharacteristically spiteful of him, but show him a man who could resist such pleasures when under so much stress and he would show you a saint.

“Noted, sir,” Bond eventually said, his voice tight.

“It had better be,” Mallory told him. “I won’t hesitate, Bond. I have no time for whatever it is you think you might pull. I am, believe it or not, on your side here, but don’t think I won’t cut the dead weight.” He stood up, and Bond followed suit. “If you have nothing else you wish to discuss, consider yourself dismissed.”

Bond nodded and moved to the door, and Mallory followed him, not quite trusting the man to get out of his hair if he didn’t personally escort him through the door.

“You know,” Bond said thoughtfully, as he paused with his hand on the door handle. “I never thought I would say this, but your predecessor was a lot more of a daredevil than you are.”

Mallory could barely believe the cheek of it. He let out a snort and reached over Bond to slam the door properly closed. He remained with his arm braced by Bond’s head, pinning him in place and staring at him, their faces inches from one another.

“Did anyone ever tell you that you’ve got a mouth on you?” he asked, and Bond looked at him, a flicker of amusement on his face, though he remained tense and alert and there was no question of who would win should it come down to it. Mallory took it as a victory that Bond didn’t act on any of those instincts.

“They might have mentioned it,” he eventually said, lowly running his tongue over his bottom lip. “Once or twice.”

“Evidently they weren’t clear enough,” Mallory said, before abruptly pushing his leg between Bond’s, pulling a sudden gasp from the man that came too quickly to stifle. If Bond was annoyed by that fact, he didn’t show it; he was already devoting one hundred per cent of his attention to Mallory, his pupils large and dark.

Just like last time, really, Mallory thought. Bond was easy to deal with when one learned to speak his language.

“You know,” Bond said, as Mallory ever so subtly increased the pressure of his leg. “I’ve stood in hell and stared Satan in the eye, but frankly, you scare me when you’re angry.”

He said the words with a kind of excited apprehension, and Mallory elected not to tell him that he didn’t get angry often. The last thing he needed was for Bond to think he was special.

“Good,” Mallory said. “Then I’m doing my job.”

He reached down and found the door handle. The click of the lock was loud in Bond’s welcome silence.


End file.
